


Nothing Like Billy

by embroiderama



Category: Supernatural, The X-Files
Genre: Crossover, F/M, One Night Stand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-19
Updated: 2010-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-06 11:36:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embroiderama/pseuds/embroiderama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1996, an FBI agent walks into Harvelle's Roadhouse looking for information.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Like Billy

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [](http://pheebs1.livejournal.com/profile)[**pheebs1**](http://pheebs1.livejournal.com/) and [](http://elanurel.livejournal.com/profile)[**elanurel**](http://elanurel.livejournal.com/) both for encouraging and betaing this story--my OMG het porn. They both really helped it come into being, so give them kisses if you like it. Also, this idea came about because of the [icons pairing meme](http://embroiderama.livejournal.com/47767.html).

He was the cleanest-looking man Ellen had seen walk into the roadhouse in years--excepting, of course, the occasional wayward traveler. This man wasn't anything like her usual crowd, but he was no wayward traveler either. His fancy suit hung crisply on his tall, slim body, and as he stepped out of the shadow of the doorway and pulled a pair of sunglasses off his head, she saw that his eyes were sharp in his handsome face.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice monotone, bland other than that twist of back-East accent that slipped out between his vowels. "I'm looking for some information."

"If you want to get back to the interstate, take this road about fifteen miles until you get to the next traffic light, and then turn left. Can't miss it."

"I'm not lost. I was told I might find somebody here who knows about the thing that lives up in the Wildcat Hills."

Well, hell. Billy had told her about men like this. 'Gentleman adventurers,' he called them, sneering at their idiocy. Rich bastards who wanted to put other people's lives at risk so they could get interesting decorations for their walls. Funny, she'd always imagined them looking more like Teddy Roosevelt and less like a model in a suit catalog.

"I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about, Mrs. Harvelle."

Her lungs froze up in her chest, but she locked up the reaction, only allowing herself to glare at the stranger while she reached under the counter to hold her revolver ready. "You, whoever you are, you better get the hell out of my establishment."

He held up his hands but didn't turn around or back up. "Please, I'm just trying to--"

"Out. Now!" Thank god, thank god Jo was in school, was all she thought as she raised the gun and pointed it at the stranger.

"Whoa! Hey, hold on. I don't think you want the kind of trouble shooting a Federal agent would get you."

"Federal agent?"

"Can I reach into my jacket to get my badge?"

"Real fuckin' slowly."

She watched as he moved one hand smoothly inside his jacket, the muscles in her shooting arm going tense in readiness as he pulled his hand out and then relaxing some when she saw a black leather bifold clutched in his hand. She could see the gold badge with the photo ID below. "Toss it over here."

He threw the badge under-hand so that it landed flat on the bar in front of her. She picked it up and examined the ID, her gun-hand dropping down to the bar as she read. Special Agent Fox Mulder. _Ellen_, she heard Billy's voice talking to her, _you may have screwed yourself real good this time._

"Why don't you go ahead and push the gun down the bar?"

Damn it, he sounded closer. She looked up to see the FBI man pointing his own gun at her.

"I ain't gonna shoot you," she sighed, letting go of the revolver and pushing it down the bar out of her reach.

He picked it up, removed the bullets, and tossed the empty gun toward the pool table before slipping his badge back into his jacket pocket. "You have any more weapons back there?"

"Rifle in the supply room." Didn't seem to be much point in lying.

"How about we sit down at one of your tables and nobody shoots anybody? Maybe you can answer a few questions for me?"

Ellen nodded, walked around the bar and took a seat at one of the tables near the juke box. "I don't know as I'll have many answers for you."

She watched him as he sat down at the table. His slick black shoes were dusty from walking across her dirt lot. His crisp, clean white shirt rumpled over his flat stomach as he sat down. So different from the men who usually sat at these tables. Suit and tie instead of jeans, t-shirts and faded flannel shirts. Face clean and shaven as smooth as a boy's instead of smudged with dirt and rough with three-day beards.

"So," he interrupted her thoughts. "Getting back to my question. Do you know anyone with experience tracking the creature that lives in the Wildcat Hills?"

"I don't suppose you're talking about the mountain lions?"

"Not exactly. Not unless you have mountain lions around here that can mimic the human voice and devour a man's heart without tearing apart the rest of his body."

Damn it, he didn't look like a hunter, but he knew what he was talking about. Old Zeke'd want to talk to this fed. Lost his hunting partner to the creature in the Hills ten years ago and hadn't tracked it down again since. "I might know somebody you could talk to. You looking to bring trouble down on anybody?"

"Trouble?"

"You know what I'm talking about. Helicopters and lights and dogs and warrants for weapons violations. That kind of trouble."

He shook his head, smiling a little. "No, I'm not interested in that. I have accounts of that creature killing at least fifteen people in the last fifty years, and I want to put a stop to it. That's all I want to do here."

"Well, you'll want to talk to old Zeke, then, but he won't be in until seven or so. You might want to go find yourself somewhere to stay until then."

"I'll wait. If you don't mind."

He sure was a hunter, in his own way. Stubborn as the rest of them, surprising when he seemed nothing like the hunters she sold beer and whiskey to every day. God, nothing like Billy.

"You don't have to worry about keeping me company." He looked up then and tossed her a mischievous little smile. "Not unless you want to."

He let his eyes linger on her for a moment, and she felt something warm bloom behind her breastbone. Hell. In here alone with this man--could be trouble. Could be interesting.

"Don't your sort usually work with partners?"

He nodded, tilting his head to the side. "My partner's visiting her family in California. I got a lead on this case and couldn't pass it up."

Impulsive son on a bitch. "So, uh, Fox?"

"Call me Mulder." He smirked. "Please."

"Mulder. You're all on your lonesome, a solitary Fed in the great state of Nebraska?"

He chuffed out a quiet laugh. "Seems that way."

Mulder turned his head to peer around the inside of the bar, and she couldn't help but look at the patch of bare skin between the top of his shirt collar and the bottom edge of his hair. Ellen's gaze slid down to the lines of his shoulders, his suit jacket pulled tight across his upper back as he turned. Shit, it had been a long time.

Billy gone five years already, and she'd only been with one man. He'd been a hunter, of course, a customer, and his calloused hands on her, his beard scrubbing her skin, had been so familiar and yet so wrong that she'd humiliated herself by rolling over in bed, after, crying like a stupid broken-hearted school girl.

Ellen couldn't afford that kind of weakness, couldn't afford to scratch open that old scab and risk bleeding to death when she had Jo to raise and a business to run. Still, she got lonely, closing up every night and going to bed in her little room next to Jo's. Her own hands felt good enough, but she couldn't help looking at the FBI man's hands--long fingers, no wedding ring, the cuff of his shirt riding up to show off fine dark hair.

He was still looking away from her, but she reached out and laid her hand lightly on top of his. He turned around immediately and stared at her, but she just turned up a corner of her mouth a little and slid her fingers down to sit between his.

"I can think of a couple ways to pass the time if you're interested."

"Whoa. I-I," he stammered lightly, but she could see his eyes dilating, the pale skin of his neck flushing, his Adam's apple pushing against the knot of his tie.

She stood up, and he watched her, soft brown eyes looking up through long lashes. "I'm going into the back; follow me if you like."

Walking away, Ellen felt his gaze on her back, and by the time she got around behind the bar she heard his footsteps behind her, long strides closing the distance between them. She stepped through the doorway into the back rooms, and Mulder was with her, hands on her shoulders, bending down to kiss her. His lips on hers felt so welcome, strong but gentle against her own. She opened her mouth, slipping her tongue onto his as she reached up to undo his tie. The thought that she hadn't undone a man's tie since her wedding night flitted through her mind, but she swept it away, focusing on fitting her fingers through the knotted silk and slipping her tongue around his.

By the time he had to pull away to catch a breath, she had thrown his tie to the floor and unbuttoned his top two buttons. Mulder's neck, suddenly revealed, tempted her, and she leaned forward to kiss him there. She felt his pulse, fast and strong under her lips, and when she inhaled she smelled some kind of cologne that was nothing like Old Spice.

She needed his hands on her, needed his skin against hers. Soon. God, it had been so long. He bent down to kiss her again, and she pushed him back. At his confused frown, Ellen nodded her chin toward the cot in the back of the room. He took the hint and strode toward it, undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt and pulling it off his shoulders as he walked.

When he reached the bed, he turned around, watching her intently as she crossed her arms and pulled her t-shirt off in one motion. She wanted to get her hands on that smooth, pale chest. Shit. She fumbled with the button on her jeans, her sweaty fingers slipping on the metal, but finally it popped out of its hole, and she yanked the zipper down. She bent over to pull the jeans and panties and her boots off, and when she looked up Mulder was still watching her, his pants unbuttoned but still hanging on his hips, his shirt still clutched in one hand.

Ellen took a step closer, and he seemed to snap out of a trance. He dropped the shirt and pulled his pants down, stumbling in his urgency as his cuffs caught on his shoes. Finally he stood up, fully stripped down. His long, heavy cock was half-hard already, rising up out of soft-looking dark hair, and she could feel his heat even though they stood a few feet apart. She reached back to unhook her bra, the only piece of clothing between them, but he raised a hand to stop her.

"Let me," he said, his voice smoky and warm, as warm as his hands as they brushed against her back.

Sudden exposure to cool air made her nipples harden, and he reached out, his soft hands cupping around her breasts. She leaned forward, pressing her weight more heavily into his hands, and he squeezed gently before pulling away far enough to run his thumbs over her nipples. Her breath shuddered in her chest as light shocks of pleasure traveled straight down, rippling through her stomach, softening her thighs, and she knew they had to get to the bed before they ended up on the floor.

She reached up to Mulder's shoulders and pushed back. The edge of the bed, right behind his legs, tripped him, and he fell onto the cheap mattress. She stepped forward to get in on top of him and then pulled back. "You have a condom on you?"

"Uh, yeah." And damned if he didn't blush, his cheeks reddening as he reached for his discarded suit jacket and pulled out the wallet that held his badge. He slid his fingers in behind the photo ID and pulled out a condom, grinning at her like a boy caught being naughty.

"Well, aren't you handy." Ellen held out her hand, and he passed the condom to her. He laid back on the bed and she lifted her knees to straddle his slim hips. After carefully ripping open the packet, she held the condom in her right hand. She wrapped her left hand around the base of his cock, feeling it harden further in her grip. As she slid the condom onto the head of his penis, she felt him jerk as her thumb slid over it, and she rolled the rubber the rest of the way onto him.

She climbed further up the bed and bent down to kiss his neck again. Mulder wrapped his arms around her, his hands sliding down her back and then around her waist to her stomach. God, it felt so good to have a man's hands on her again. Her nerve-endings woke up under his touch, and she closed her eyes, just concentrating on feeling his long, warm fingers as they swept swirling patterns over her stomach and sides.

Ellen gasped and opened her eyes when his hand slid down between her legs. He pressed the heel of his hand there for a moment, massaging gently, light strokes of his fingers along her slit. Then he flicked his thumb across her clit, and she bit down on the skin over his collar bone, sucking on the skin until she knew it would bruise.

She sat up, her flushed skin feeling cold as she pulled her chest away from his, but when she palmed his cock and slid it inside her, she felt heat flash through her. He moaned and rocked his hips up into her, moving his hands up to her waist. Mulder held onto her until they found a rhythm together, and then he put one hand back between her legs, the other on her left breast.

His thumbs circled in counterpoint to each other, sending overlapping shocks of pleasure through her body. Ellen looked down at his face and saw him biting his lip, his thick lower lip drawn up tight under white teeth, and she rode him more roughly, grinding her clit harder into his hand until she came, clenching around his cock, breaths fighting their way out of her chest as she let her head fall back.

She felt him start to thrust up harder underneath her again, again, again, again, and then he came, moaning and shuddering as his back arched before he relaxed back onto the bed. She let herself fall forward and lay breathing into the sweaty skin of his chest for a moment as her heart settled back into a steady rhythm and the last pulses of her orgasm shivered through her body.

Ellen moved upwards just enough to let his limp cock slide out of her, and Mulder reached a lazy hand down to pull the condom off. She heard a small sound that was probably the condom hitting the floor, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to care. The school bus wouldn't bring Jo home for another hour. The roadhouse was empty and quiet and cool around her as she let her eyes close and her body relax on top of a man for the first time in years. He could stay just a little while longer.


End file.
